


Forest of Plenty

by Llama1412



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Beads, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Breeding, Come Inflation, Consentacles, Double Penetration, Face-Fucking, Multi, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Sort Of, Sounding, Tentacles, Threesome - M/M/M, belly bulge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Geralt goes to visit his friend Mousesack for some fun and discovers that Mousesack and Jaskier have already anticipated his arrival and prepared quite a surprise for him.
Relationships: Ermion | Mousesack/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Ermion | Mousesack/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 309





	Forest of Plenty

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [eyesofshinigami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesofshinigami/pseuds/eyesofshinigami) for the beta!

Geralt wasn’t actually sure how Mousesack and Jaskier had met, aside from the one time at the Cintran Banquet. But somehow, the next time he came to visit his friend in the forest grove outside Cintra, he found a surprise waiting for him.

First, his friend wasn’t alone. Since Mousesack typically preferred solitude for his sojourns into the woods, this was unusual enough. But Mousesack’s companion, delicately drinking tea with all the manners of highest court etiquette, was none other than Jaskier. They were sitting on two tree stumps, and using a third as a table. 

Second, they were both entirely naked. This wasn’t entirely unusual – even though Mousesack had adopted the stiff and upright demeanor expected of a Cintran courtier, he was a nudist at heart. All the better to commune with nature or something. It’s not as if Geralt particularly minded – he didn’t care if people wore clothing or not, and Mousesack was usually amenable to other activities where nudity was preferred anyway.

Jaskier was the unexpected factor, though. What was he even doing here?

“Uh...hi?” Geralt said awkwardly.

They turned to him with identical amused smirks that sent a shiver down his spine. Why did he suddenly feel like he’d walked in over his head?

“We were hoping you’d come soon,” Mousesack said.

“By which he means, we’ve been waiting for days for you to actually seek out something nice for yourself,” Jaskier injected.

“What?”

“Sit down, Geralt,” Mousesack said in that deep throaty voice that Geralt followed without question. He wasn’t entirely sure what was happening here. Mousesack rose and placed his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and Jaskier sidled up to press against his side. “Your timing is good. We were just sitting down for tea.”

Jaskier poured Geralt a cup of tea, as if all of this was perfectly normal. With his eyebrow cocked, Geralt took the cup and sniffed it.

_ Oh.  _ This was special tea, the kind brewed with the herbs Mousesack kept for the best parties. Geralt hummed and sipped the tea, closing his eyes and letting himself savour the bitter taste of herbs. 

Mousesack patted his shoulder, leaving his hand on Geralt as he slid around him and sat down on the tree stump that Geralt was mostly sure hadn’t been there before.

Well, Mousesack was a druid. Nature magic was in his blood, and he was quite powerful, though he tended to let people underestimate him. 

Geralt inhaled deeply, feeling the tea start to take effect as his muscles loosened. The worries of the world seemed to slide off his shoulders and Geralt hummed. “Since when do you two drink tea together?” He asked.

“Since you left me at the Cintran Banquet,” Jaskier said, poking him in the side. Geralt grunted. “You greeted Mousesack as an old friend, so obviously I had to get to know him.”

“And you subjected yourself to a night full of politics and polite society for the bard.” The corner of Mousesack’s mouth pulled up in a crooked grin. “I was definitely curious.”

“And since we both knew you, we had plenty to talk about.” The smirk on Jaskier’s face did not bode well for Geralt. 

“So many stories to share.” Mousesack’s smirk was not reassuring.

“But one thing we both found very interesting, Geralt,” Jaskier rose, leaning close and boxing him in against Mousesack. “Is how much of a slut you are for having your hole destroyed.”

Geralt moaned brokenly, the lassitude from the tea making it impossible to hold back. 

“We thought you might be interested in a little experiment.” Mousesack said, sliding his hand up Geralt’s shoulder until he could cup the back of Geralt’s neck. “To see just how much you can take.”

“Fuck, yes,” Geralt groaned, flushing with embarrassment. But in truth, there was no need for embarrassment here with the two closest friends he had. Besides, they both knew how much of a size queen he was. Both had enjoyed trying to find ways to please his craving. But they had never been together like this, never offered themselves so openly to his pleasure.

It made Geralt’s chest feel warm. Jaskier cupped his face, kissing him softly once, again, and then the bard took his mouth in a deep and dirty kiss that had Geralt’s head spinning. 

“Lay down with me, darling,” Jaskier drawled, laying back onto the tree stump that magically grew large enough for them. Nature magic was pretty handy, Geralt thought as he eagerly chased Jaskier’s mouth. He wondered what else Mousesack’s magic could do.

He got his answer when he felt vines twining around his legs, creeping up under the hem of his pants. Geralt jerked in surprise and felt Mousesack behind him, pressing against his hips where he was bent over the stump. Mousesack’s prick was against his ass, and even with his trousers in the way, Geralt couldn’t help pushing back into him.

Mousesack laughed, a rich warm sound in his ear. “Patience, old friend, patience.” He slid his hands over Geralt’s hips and slid them up under the hem of Geralt’s shirt, followed by several vines. “We’ll need you naked first.”

Geralt really should have been annoyed over the way the vines tore his clothing off of him, but with Jaskier under him and Mousesack behind him, he had been wishing his pants weren’t in the way. Still, he shot Mousesack a dirty look over his shoulder. “I could have just taken them off, you know.”

Mousesack’s smirk just grew wider. “Yes, but then I couldn’t tear them off you.”

“Besides, you’ve had that particular shirt for 3 years, Geralt. It was really time for it to go.” Jaskier put in, and Geralt grumbled until Jaskier pulled him into a kiss.

Geralt didn’t see what slick Mousesack had acquired, but there were suddenly two wet fingers rubbing over his hole. Geralt pushed back into them, sighing into Jaskier’s mouth. Two fingers was hardly anything for him, but it was at least  _ something _ to fill his craving. And Mousesack didn’t keep him waiting, spreading his fingers apart before drawing back and thrusting in with a third.

The vines that had ripped off his clothes coiled tighter around him until he could feel their comforting pressure along each of his limbs and across his chest. Geralt felt a hand brushing his hair out of his face and opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed. Jaskier was looking at him so softly, he had to fight the urge to immediately withdraw.

Maybe Mousesack knew that, because he planted one hand on Geralt’s upper back, pinning him against Jaskier. It should have made him feel trapped, but instead, the shivery urge to  _ run _ melted away and Geralt relaxed against Jaskier. 

“Yeah,” Jaskier cooed, “we thought you might like this. And don’t worry – there’s a  _ lot _ more to come.” His mischievous chuckle was echoed in Geralt’s ear by Mousesack and he felt a thrill shoot up his spine. If there were two people he could trust to both know what he liked and not take advantage of him, it would be these two. 

His teeth dug into his lower lip at the thought and Jaskier tsked. He gently removed Geralt’s lip and then shoved his thumb into Geralt’s mouth. Geralt ran his tongue over Jaskier’s thumb, sucking on it as Mousesack’s fingers in his ass were joined by slithering vines. He shivered at the intrusion – each rather small in size, and yet there were so  _ many _ . Mousesack pulled his hand out and before Geralt could even feel the emptiness, more vines plunged into him, stretching him wide.

The vines inside seemed to be leaking some sort of viscous substance, letting them move fairly freely without causing discomfort. Geralt twisted his wrist against the vine that wasn’t holding him in place, just pressing comfortingly into his skin. That vine, and the others along his chest and legs all remained dry. Geralt pulled off of Jaskier’s finger, ignoring the bard’s pout. “You’re getting pretty good with this magic,” he complimented Mousesack. The druid hummed in amusement and leaned forward to press a kiss to his neck.

Jaskier groaned. “Really? We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

Geralt shrugged. “Last time, all the vines were kind of slimy. This is better.” Mousesack’s deep, satisfied chuckles always made Geralt shiver and now was no different. “Much better.”

“Noted.” Mousesack pulled back, and the vines wrapped around his wrists and legs grew taut, slowly pulling him out of his kneeling position. At the same time, the vines inside him twisted into one solid mass and thrust deep. A moan forced itself out of Geralt’s lips and his limbs went weak, allowing the vines to pull him spread-eagle in the air. “Because we have extensive plans for them.” Mousesack continued, and Jaskier laughed under Geralt.

“So many plans, darling. We intend to make sure that you’re unable to walk for a week when we’re finished.”

Geralt grit his teeth against another moan. Fuck, he wanted that, wanted to be absolutely ruined here with the two people he could trust to take care of him.

“You’ll like that, won’t you?” Mousesack said.

“Fuck, yes,” Geralt got out as the vines pulled him up until he could feel nothing against his skin except them. Then they turned him over, somehow never getting tangled, and Geralt was suddenly blinking up at Mousesack. More vines came up to support his head, wrapping around his forehead and throat – not squeezing, but present. The entire time, the vines inside him maintained a steady rhythm thrusting into him. For a long moment, he was just held like that: spread wide, suspended over Jaskier, with Mousesack gazing down at him with half-lidded eyes, and vines fucking deep inside him. Slowly, one or two at a time, more vines wriggled inside him, stretching him wider so gradually that Geralt almost didn’t notice. 

Hands traced along his ribs and based on the calluses, he was pretty sure they were Jaskier’s, but he couldn’t seem to get his eyes open to verify. 

“You look gorgeous split open like this,” Jaskier said, leaning up to nip at Geralt’s ear. “But I think you want more, don’t you? You need something to do with your mouth.”

Geralt moaned as vines pushed roughly into his mouth, forcing his jaw wide. He flicked his tongue along the vines as they thrust into his mouth. 

“Yes, that’s better.” Jaskier purred, tangling a hand in Geralt’s hair and pulling his head back further. Sparks prickled along his scalp and the vines plunged deep into his throat. They pulled back to let him catch his breath, and then started a punishing rhythm that had Geralt’s eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Rough hands dragged up the backs of his thighs and Geralt shivered when Mousesack pressed a whiskery kiss to his ankle. “Nearly wide enough for what we want.”

Geralt was glad his mouth was occupied and kept his moan from being heard. He felt so wide, so full already, and the idea of  _ more _ had his stomach quivering with fire. He jumped when Mousesack nipped at his thigh, but the vines kept him immobile. Geralt could feel more vines tickling along his rim, pushing inside him and joining the twisting mass that thrust against him without ever withdrawing. 

When there were no more vines waiting to push into him, Geralt felt wonderfully stretched, but the vines began thrusting more shallowly, leaving him craving something to fill the emptiness. He got his wish when the vines started pulsing and throbbing inside him, flexing against his hole and forcing him just the slightest bit wider as each vine shot out several smooth seeds the size of marbles. Geralt arched into the sensation, squeezing around the seeds.

The vines started pulling out of his ass and even though the ones in his mouth continued to fuck into his throat, he needed more. He knew that Mousesack would be watching his hands for any gestures, so Geralt frantically signed his discontent, whine rumbling in his chest. The seeds weren’t enough, he needed to be stretched wide and filled deep, and why were the vines  _ leaving–  _

“Shhhh,” Jaskier soothed him, and Geralt suddenly realized that he’d been lowered enough that Jaskier’s heat was close enough to feel. “Don’t worry, darling, we’re not done with you yet.”

“Not even close,” Mousesack stroked his hands up and down Geralt’s thighs. Then he pushed them forward over Geralt’s abdomen. The vines wrapped around his legs let him be moved, but as soon as he was in place, they grew taut, leaving him folded in half and entirely exposed. His hole had been stretched so, so wide and now he was empty and on display and it made his stomach squirm in a mix of embarrassment and pleasure.

Geralt was lowered down until he could feel Jaskier’s chest against his shoulders and Jasier’s cock pressed inside him, but after the vines, it wasn’t enough and a sob caught in Geralt’s throat.

“Always hurrying things along. Patience, dove.” Mousesack’s voice was deep and Geralt tried to use it to ground himself. When the druid’s cock pressed against his rim next to Jaskier’s, Geralt could feel every inch of it sink inside him, pushing the seeds deeper. He clenched around the cocks and the seeds inside him, and it was satisfying, it  _ was. _

But part of Geralt wished there was more.

Mousesack pinched the skin at the top of his thigh and Geralt gasped wetly. “Patience,” he emphasized. 

How could Geralt be patient when he felt this clawing emptiness, this need to be filled and filled and filled until he couldn’t take anymore? Almost panicking, Geralt squeezed tightly around the cocks inside him, suddenly terrified they might withdraw.

“Shhh,” this time both Mousesack and Jaskier’s voices soothed him and Geralt realized that at some point, the vines in his mouth had pulled out and he was drawing in great wracking breaths. His two partners were motionless inside him, and all of their attention was on him, stroking through his hair and rubbing calming circles on his chest.

Geralt closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth of his partners around him, focusing on the way Jaskier’s lute-callused fingers scratched lightly against the his scalp in a massage, on the way Mousesack’s hands were rough in totally different ways as they brushed through his chest hair. Slowly, his breathing calmed down again.

Mousesack stroked a thumb over his cheek. “Back with us?”

He swallowed and nodded.

“Do you still want to continue?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt didn’t feel up to forming words – they always took so much effort – so he signed his response. The need to be filled wasn’t overwhelming anymore, but the promise of more lurked in the future. Geralt couldn’t pass that up.

Mousesack smiled at Geralt’s affirmative, then closed his eyes to focus his power. Slick vines tickled along Geralt’s rim again and he moaned embarrassingly loud when four of them slipped into him around Jaskier and Mousesack’s cocks.

“You know, I like it when he’s loud,” Jaskier said conversationally to Mousesack, as if they weren’t both fucking Geralt between them.

“More than choking on cock? Or vine, in this case?” 

Geralt scowled and squeezed around them to demand their attention.  _ “I  _ want the vines, so shut up and fuck me.”

Both laughed, deep chuckles that shook through their bodies and made Geralt squirm against his restraints. They obliged his request, though, and the vines slithered up his chest poked at his lips. Geralt opened his mouth eagerly, lapping across the tips of four vines. The tips had slick openings that must have been how they planted the seeds in him, and they also seemed to be extremely sensitive as they pressed back into his licks. 

Then, one vine pinned his tongue down and the other three thrust deep into his throat in one go. Geralt choked around them, struggling to swallow. One withdrew slowly, and when it was partway out, the second vine followed it. Then, as the third vine withdrew, the first thrust in again, and they set a rhythm like that, corkscrewing into his throat while Geralt breathed through his nose and swallowed rapidly around the tips of the vines.

“Ha,” Jaskier panted in his ear, grinding up into him as much as his position allowed. “Even with a plant, you find the best way to please it. Always such a good slut.”

Geralt closed his lips to suck around his mouthful, loving the ache developing in the back of his throat.

“Such a good slut with such a sloppy hole,” Mousesack said, and the vine tips swelled in his throat at the vibrations from his moan. Mousesack pulled his hips all the way out, leaving Geralt gaping open, and then he slammed back in so hard that Geralt strained against the vines holding him in place. The druid set a rapid pace, and each movement rocked Geralt against Jaskier’s cock, which rubbed across that spot that made sparks flash behind his eyelids. But even better than the powerful thrusts was the way Mousesack’s cock butted against the seeds inside him, causing them to roll against each other and along his inner walls. Geralt squeezed again, just to feel the way Mousesack’s next thrust forced him open, forcing the seeds deeper.

Geralt’s cock was rock hard and weeping as it rubbed against his own stomach, leaving smears of precum in the hair there. More vines slithered across his chest until two vines were twisting in opposition to each other around his cock, completely surrounding it. Another vine, slightly smaller than the others, poked around the head of his cock until the tip slid against his hole. 

With his head tilted back, braced against Jaskier’s shoulder, Geralt couldn’t see the way the vine tip contracted to fit just inside his hole and then expanded again, just the slightest amount – but he could  _ feel _ it. Lightning shot up his spine and Geralt felt precum spurt up against the vine, unable to go anywhere. The pressure made heat coil in his gut and Geralt breathed rapidly through his nose.

He felt himself approaching the edge and then suddenly, everything froze. Geralt whined piteously around the single vine in his throat.

“Ah ah ah,” Mousesack tutted. “You’ve been chosen to incubate the seeds, Geralt. You can’t come until you’ve fulfilled your duty. We’re going to fuck you and fill you full of cum until you’re properly bred.” Geralt squirmed, desperate for friction. Every word sounded so delicious, but so did coming right  _ now.  _ “Then,” Mousesack pushed Geralt further in half when he leaned down to murmur in his ear, “once you’re round and full and ready, you’re going to give the seeds back to nature.” Geralt’s brows drew inward in confusion, and Mousesack kissed his forehead. “This vine has flowers, beautiful, large bulbs that bloom into bountiful flowers. Which it’s going to do inside you.” Mousesack smirked when Geralt’s eyes flew open with a moan. “It will be even bigger than now. Can you handle it?”

Though the question was framed as a challenge, Geralt knew it was a genuine check in. If he wanted to, he could tap out, could get his orgasm now and end this encounter entirely too quickly.

Or he could let himself be completely taken apart under the vines and Mousesack and Jaskier.

When put that way, there was really no question.  _ Yes, _ Geralt signed, chanting a litany in his head.  _ Yes yes yes. _

“Good boy,” Mousesack murmured. 

“You want to be a good little bitch, don’t you?” Jaskier spoke in his ear. “You know this is what you were meant for, to be used and bred until your hole is completely ruined.”

Geralt felt more precum try to leak out of his cock, adding to the delicious pressure building there. The vine in his slit wiggled against him and he wished the vines in his mouth would choke him again, and not just to muffle his moan. 

Mousesack smirked. “You won’t come until you’ve been bred and emptied.” Geralt’s yes sign didn’t change, and finally, the vines started moving again. This time, all four vines in his mouth thrust deep until he could only breathe through his nose and they set a bruising pace.

The vines in his ass pulled along the edges of his rim, stretching him further until more vines could slide inside him, twisting and writhing against his inner walls. Geralt felt overwhelmed in sensation and he never wanted it to stop. He was surrounded by heat and the smell of the two people he trusted most mixed with the spicy scent of arousal and it was intoxicating. His eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed into the sensations, letting himself enjoy being entirely under another’s control. 

Jaskier grunted, his breath coming in little  _ ah ah ah’s  _ that Geralt committed to memory. His hips were grinding against Geralt in jerky motions and Geralt deliberately squeezed. Jaskier gasped, holding his breath and arching against Geralt and coming inside him. This wasn’t the first time Jaskier had fucked him, nor would it be the last, but Geralt was quite sure that the amount of cum pumping into him was more than usual. Had Mousesack worked that into the magic tea? If so, Geralt would have to remember to thank him later. The druid in question thrust alongside Jaskier’s dick, pushing the cum deeper into the seeds. Jaskier whimpered, oversensitive but not moving away. As Jaskier panted, breath puffing along the side of Geralt’s face, he slid his hands across Geralt’s chest, first thumbing his nipples, then pressing over the bulge that formed on his belly where the seeds and cum were pushed deeper with each thrust. 

“Feel that?” Jaskier murmured, “You’re so full already, and only halfway bred. We’re going to fill you up so much more, until you can’t clench yourself closed anymore.” 

Geralt writhed against them, and Mousesack continued his powerful thrusts, gazing down at Geralt with hungry eyes. “Remember,” he murmured, reaching down to roll Geralt’s balls in his hand. “You can’t come until you’ve been bred all the way.” 

Geralt whimpered, feeling a hot sensation pool in his gut. He wasn’t sure he could do that, but then Mousesack started to come, shoving deep and pushing Geralt’s legs even higher until he was curled slightly upward. All Geralt could do was focus his entire being on  _ not coming  _ as he felt himself stretching further around the copious amounts of cum. 

Geralt wasn’t aware that he’d been wailing, his mouth suddenly free. Jaskier murmured soothingly in his ear, but Geralt could only hear it as if through a tunnel, faded and unintelligible. He let himself ride the crest of pleasure, still wholly focused on not coming and when he came down again, Mousesack was pressed close against the backs of his thighs, gazing down at him with a pleased, satiated expression. Geralt felt a thrill at knowing that he’d done good, that his focus on not coming had paid off. 

His entire body was trembling finely and covered in sweat, and he couldn’t seem to get his body to stop making that high whining noise. Mousesack and Jaskier didn’t seem to mind, though, petting his face and hair.

“We’re gonna pull out, dove. Then you’re gonna get filled with the flower bud,” Mousesack said.

Jaskier continued, “And while it’s pushing you open, you need to squeeze around the seeds, get them nice and fertile inside you.” His hand pressed against the bulge in Geralt’s belly and he clenched desperately to keep the pressure from forcing anything out. “Good boy.”

“Stay like that, dove. I’m pulling out.” Mousesack held his legs up, helping him keep everything inside as Jaskier slipped out as well. It was hard to mourn the emptiness when he was clenched tight around a dozen seeds and pumped full of cum. “Look at that,” Mousesack said, touching a finger to Geralt’s rim. “You’re gaping so wide, even trying your hardest. And you haven’t even taken the biggest part yet.”

Geralt moaned. He should have felt intimidated at the idea of taking even more, but his gut churned with want and his cock remained rock hard and plugged up. His fingers felt stiff and he realized he’d locked his fingers into the sign for yes. He flexed them slowly to get sensation back, then clearly signed  _ please.  _

He could feel Jaskier’s laugh all along his back where they were pressed together and Geralt relished in having pleased the bard. It always made something warm in his heart burn hot and if Geralt wasn’t careful, he’d become addicted to the feeling outside of these scenes as well.

“Time for the flower. Stay clenched, dove.” As Mousesack spoke, something oddly soft, like the texture of a petal, brushed against his rim and slid right in through his gaping hole. The flower made it partway in before Geralt felt the pressure against his clenched muscles. Instead of crushing like an ordinary flower, the petals were firm and stiff, pushing into him with single-minded focus. Geralt moaned roughly as the flower bud forced itself inside him, narrower deeper in him with a bulbous base that spread his rim wide until it popped in. 

A hand brushed tears away from cheeks he hadn’t realized were wet. Someone’s fingers were brushing through his hair, tugging lightly against his scalp. Another hand rubbed soothing circles on his chest and Geralt focused on those sensations until his breathing was steady again and he could make out the words Jaskier was murmuring into his hair.

“You’re doing so good darling, so good. Look at you, taking it so well, you’re a natural at this, absolutely made for it.”

Geralt whined, trying to clench around the seeds without clenching his abs. 

“You’re doing wonderful, Geralt,” Mousesack’s deep voice echoed. “You’re saving part of nature today, dove. Because of you, these seeds will be able to grow. My magic couldn’t do this without you.” He patted Geralt’s chest when he saw Geralt blink up at him. “The flower is going to blossom inside you now. You need to stay clenched until it’s finished blooming. Once the flower’s core is exposed, you’ll push the seeds into it and complete the cycle.” His finger danced just above Geralt’s cockhead where the vine was still plugging him against the pressure of precum. “Then you can come.”

The flower bud inside him slowly started expanding from the top and spreading down. Before long, the strangely stiff and silky smooth petals were pressing his hole as wide as it had been. Then it continued, pushing against his inner walls, forcing his clenched muscles to give way.

Geralt abruptly wished he had something he could sink his teeth into and bit at his lip. Something solid pressed against his lips and he opened his mouth to feel a vine slide in sideways just thick enough for him to really bite into. A viscous substance that smelled reminiscent of ginger flowed over his tongue and down the corners of his mouth, and tingling erupted in its wake. He growled in satisfaction around his mouthful, his eyes fluttering. 

The flower inside him was so big, and he could feel the way the petals were unfolding in him, pressing deeper and wider than anything he’d ever had before. The light edges of the petals, where the stiffness gave way into a silky slide, brushed against his inner walls in a way that made him squirm. 

Finally, when he felt full enough to burst, the petals were all the way open and Mousesack and Jaskier were pushing on the bulge in his belly and Geralt finally  _ released _ his muscles. He shivered as the seeds rolled against his walls, but they didn’t automatically fall into the flower and Geralt flushed with embarrassment as he  _ pushed _ until each seed fell into the flower’s core. Then the petals began to fold back into a bud and he felt the petal tips tickling against his inner walls again.

Then the flower pulled back, stretching his rim wide around the widest part until suddenly, it was out of him and he was empty, gaping open and so very empty.

“Shh, dove, give the vines a moment to coil large enough.” Mousesack said, flicking his thumb over Geralt’s nipple.

Per his word, vines twisted into a solid wide phallus slide into place inside him, growing larger until he could just barely feel the stretch. The two vines curled around his cock dove into motion, twisting around him roughly, and Geralt threw his head back, holding his breath. The vine plugging his cock retracted, shrinking enough to let his cum burst out in a gushing flow. The vine pushed back in, small enough not to plug him, but moving in steady thrusts. It was like getting his cock stroked from the inside and his orgasm felt like it went on for an age as his body puddled against Jaskier’s chest. 

Geralt was absolutely covered in cum, producing the same copious amount that helped the other two fill him so deliciously. His head lolled against Jaskier’s shoulder and he was glad the vines were still wrapped around his legs and wrists, because they were the only thing that kept him from floating away. He was held tightly, safely, and there was a faraway voice that blended into the pleasure, guiding him slowly down from his high.

He slowly became aware of Jaskier humming softly in his ear, the bard’s chest rumbling against his back. Mousesack had found something to clean the mess, and the rhythmic wiping motions were soothing. Once Geralt was clean, Mousesack climbed up onto what had to be the softest magical tree stump bed in existence and pressed against Geralt’s front. The vines unwound from his legs, though they stayed curled around his wrists and ankles. Mousesack rolled them onto their sides until Geralt was completely surrounded by Mousesack and Jaskier again.

Mousesack summoned water that they could drink from without straining against gravity – which was good, because Geralt was pretty sure his muscles wouldn’t be up for anything for the next day at least. But that was okay. This was Mousesack’s forest and he lived off the land like a true druid – his home was built into the canopy of the forest, with nothing altered that could hurt the plants. Nature magic made that entire idea much more appealing, and Geralt nuzzled down into the soft pillow the tree stump had formed for him. 

“How are you feeling?” Mousesack asked against the backdrop of Jaskier’s humming.

_ Fucking marvelous,  _ Geralt signed, too hazy and content to even try speaking. Hands were easier to move, anyway. 

Jaskier laughed. “Knew we’d come up with something perfect for you.”

“Hmm,” Geralt hummed in his chest, head tilted against Mousesack’s shoulder and eyes falling shut.

“I think I should make a song of this,” Jaskier said. “The White Wolf vs the Forest Spirit.”

_ Who wins?  _ Geralt’s signed.

Mousesack chuckled. “Both.”

Geralt smiled, mouth pressed against Mousesack’s skin. It was true – he certainly felt like a winner. Jaskier continued humming, and it almost did sound like he was picking out specific melodies for a song. Geralt resigned himself to a completely fictitious account of his victory over some vine monster with abilities no monster had.

“Come on, let’s move inside,” Mousesack nudged Geralt until he was lifted in Mousesack’s arms, blinking sleepily. Jaskier followed next to him, hand tangled in Geralt’s hair. Geralt kept his eyes closed, but he knew they’d stepped into Mousesack’s home when the light changed and the smell of wet earth and bark mixed with deep spicy notes of pine trees floated up to his nose. Geralt breathed deeply and when Mousesack set him down somewhere soft and immediately burrowed into his side with Jaskier following, Geralt nuzzled into the moss and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. 


End file.
